


No Closed Doors

by smutpeddler



Series: Never Been The Clothes That Make The Man [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Musing Barba, Phone Call, Pre-Romance, nosy family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutpeddler/pseuds/smutpeddler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Meddling is what we do. It’s what defines us. Meddling gave us fire and tools and civilisation and the keys to the universe. Fingers will get burnt along the way, yes. That’s the way of it.” <br/>― Alastair Reynolds, On the Steel Breeze</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Closed Doors

It's weeks -close to a month- before he calls. Work is as it always had been, every waking moment of the day. When the thought did pass his mind, during the few brief seconds as he poured his coffee and began the morning, he believed there were better ideas than calling a bartender at 7 am. Inevitably, the day would devour his mind and soul, her face would drift out of his mind, and it would be forgotten until the next morning. It's a conversation with his mother - _serendipitous_ \- that sparks it back, sitting on his couch, pouring over case files, and _mhmming_ in all the right places.

 

"- _Virginia?"_ his breath catches low in his throat, "Rafi, you there?"

 

"Yeah. Yes," setting the file gently on the cushion next to him, "It just cut out for a second," it's the first thing he can think of, it feels almost forced. It tastes strange in his mouth, "Say again?"

 

"Well, I stopped into play practice after school today, because they've been having fund problems, you know?" he rolls his eyes a bit, as if the school were his struggling younger brother and their mother must make a point to him, " _Anyways!_ Rory, he's the student stage director this year, that boy, he really earned it."

 

Taking a gulp of his scotch, Rafael nodded, "I'm sure he did if you're consulting with him about drama fund problems," both of them giving a light life, different only in pitch.

 

"Well, my point is, we were talking when he was waiting for his ride home and he mentioned his grandma and aunt talking about you. And I was just curious how you knew Virginia?" but it's in her voice. It's not going to be the answer she's hoping for, because there's a reason she knows the girl by name and talks with her nephew after school.

 

His green eyes look up at the ceiling, deciding another gulp of liquid courage would be the right choice before answering, " _Oh that!"_ as if it's all a coincidence, it is, "I wandered into her bar one day," it sounds a bit less exciting when he says it like that, "She recognized me is all."

 

" _Did she?"_ Rafael can almost see his mother's smirk, the same one she gives anytime Olivia's name happens into their conversations, "From TV…?"

 

Pinching his nose and sighing, just deciding to get it over with, "No she was us earlier at the school together," he doesn't want to talk about this. Not just with his mother, with anyone. It's his little moment when for an evening he wasn't his job.

 

" _And?_

 

There was supposed to be an and? Wasn't that enough of an explanation? They both knew this wasn't going to lead the way she wanted, "I got called into work-" " _Of course!"_ "I haven't seen her since, _mama_."

 

"Oh, Rafi!" there's a familiar tutting on the other end, she hardly uses it anymore, it makes him feel like a little boy again, "You should, you know."

 

" _Mah_ , when I get-"

 

"You are no longer in charge of those decisions. Clearly you can't make him," his lips curl in a wry smile, he knows she's right. It doesn't mean agrees with it, it doesn't mean he likes it, but she's right, "It's all out of love _, mijo._ "

He glances at the napkin, sitting just at the base of the lamp, next to his scotch, "Whatever happened to just saying I love you?"

 

" _I love you._ Do it."

 

"Love you too."

 

He sets his phone down on the side table, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his hands. It's 11 pm, she'd be up. The rest of the scotch goes down smoothly. The phone feels like it staring at him, judging him for reaching for the case file, it's ridiculous. He knows it's ridiculous. This is his job, his life, the case folder is back in his lip, but his eyes can't drag themselves downward. This is important. Rafael's eyes meet the face of his phone, reflecting back his furrowed brow and pursed lips. 6 months off, but important none the less. The phone is in his hand. This is important too. He taps her name. _Virginia._ And possibly much nearer. He presses the phone to his ear, mentally reminding himself that optimism wasn't a thing he particular believed in.

 

" _Hello?"_

 

Her voice is filled with obvious confusion. Why wouldn't it be? He all but ran out the door.

 

"It's Rafael," he answers the unasked question, toying with the thick edge of the file, "Is this a bad time?"

 

He doesn't know what he wants her answer to be, "Probably the best time we'll get honestly," she laughs, he lets out a long breath, "You talked to your mom didn't you?"

 

If he'd been pensive before now he was filled with bewilderment, "How-how did you know that?" No suspicion, just an overwhelming curiousity.

 

The phone shuffles, "Spencer," her voice is muffled, "Does your son understand that our life is not a teen soap opera?" far away too, clearly holding her hand over the microphone. He laughs heartily, trailing off when she shuffles back on the line, "You're a lawyer, is there some way I can charge a 15 year old for being a huge pain in my ass. There's gotta  be something, right?"

 

"Unfortunately, no. Being 15 and making everyone pull out their hair is pretty much his job at this point," imagining how her smile would take over her face when she laughs, like she's doing now, "You remember being 15."

 

She _hmmed_ to herself, "Pretty sure I was more angsty."

 

"Also an acceptable option."

 

" _Is that the lawyer?"_ another woman's voice comes through the speaker softly, " _Bet'cha 10 bucks it is."_

 

 _"That's a losing bet and you know it, little lady,"_ this one deeper, farther away and a Southern drawl.

 

He hears her sigh, can see her grey eyes rolling behind her glasses, he likes the image, "I should've apologized in advance for the _children._ There was time I once had privacy, I remember it vividly."

 

Drumming his thumbs on the leather arm of his couch, "Roommates?"

 

"Nah. Sister and mom's boyfriend."

 

 _"And brother!"_ comes another new voice.

 

His eyes widen slightly, "There are a lot of you," but for some reason it makes sense. Seeing her surrounded by a large family.

 

" _Mhm,"_ it's something between a hum and a bitten laugh, "This is _really_ bad."

 

"How about we go with memorable? It's a better word," he hopes the kindness he tries for makes it through, "And now we're more than even."

 

" _Jesus! Will all of you leave this woman in peace? Scoot, go, out! I did not raise you to be vultures!"_ it's the last foreign voice he hears, everyone seeming to listen to the authority in her words, it reminds him way to much of his mother.

 

There's a long silence. He knows she must feel awkward, he wants her to know it's okay. If anything there's just as much awkwardness coming from him. Just a different kind.

 

"How-" Rafael clears his throat, "How about I drag you away from the _children_ , as you put it, for a couple hours?"

 

"I dunno. Won't New York crumble if you're not near a case at all times?"

 

Shrugging to himself, he starts to stand, "Well deserved."

 

She's thinking, it's a stretching silence, the kind that lasts a few seconds but feels like hours, "Sure. Why not? Just text me the address."

 

 _Yes, Virginia. Why not?_ It feels like she's read his mind, "See you soon."

 

The smile feels good on his face, rolling down his sleeves. It's familiar, like all those years ago with Yelina, but so incredibly different at the same time. He doesn't know what's going to happen next, what kind of person she's going to be, sitting across from him as they shared the evening together. It makes something bubble underneath his fitted, navy vest. Rafael doesn't think about the case as he leaves his apartment, texting Virginia the address of a small but swanky bar not too far from his apartment, the word work doesn't even exist in his mind. Just, why not

**Author's Note:**

> This is part too. Grammar problems still apply. I dunno. I just like how they sound sometimes. I think they flow better occasionally. *shrugs* but I hope their better this time and less annoying.
> 
> Also I'm still getting the hang of Barba as well as finding phone conversations difficult to write. So this was a bit of a challenge.


End file.
